


it doesn't have to be a snowman

by starblessed



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blood, Human/Vampire Relationship, M/M, except not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:48:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23797954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starblessed/pseuds/starblessed
Summary: Don only bothers to check his phone the next day, where he finds unread texts from Skip: that Eric Andre meme, with him hollering at the gate, screaming "LET ME IN!" At some point, Skip photoshopped his own face onto Eric Andre's head, and sent it to Don.Ten times.
Relationships: Donald Malarkey & Skip Muck, Donald Malarkey/Skip Muck
Kudos: 18





	it doesn't have to be a snowman

**Author's Note:**

> So I've been going through my old BoB tumblr, renelemaires, and found... a treasure trove of fics that I wrote and never posted?? Which is a shame, because I was honestly a better writer then than I am now. (Don't ask how that happened. I have no clue.) Since we've all got a bit of time on our hands, this quarantine season... here goes nothing! Gonna try to post some of my older work.
> 
> Starting with the love of my life, Skip. Because of course I am.

The scratching at the window sounds like the dull drone of a buzzsaw. It stretches on for a few seconds, and then stops; just when it seems like it has given up, it starts up again. _Scritch-scritch-scritch,_ over and over, in a shrieky cacophony.

It was sort of funny, for the first half hour.

Don’s convinced that too much of anything can drive you crazy after a while. He and Skip have listened to the same songs on the radio over and over until the opening strains alone make them wince; they’ve eaten pizza and chocolate until they’re ready to puke; they’ve watched TV until their eyes feel ready to fall out of their skulls. He’s got experience behind him, and he knows how easy it is to get sick of things.

He’s not sick of his best friend, by any means. He could never be fed up with Skip. He’s just sick…

Of this.

“Will you stop it?” he finally exclaims. When his head swivels to glare over his shoulder, the scratching cuts off abruptly. “I already told you, I’m not letting you in!”

Skip pouts. He looks a little pathetic, hovering outside Don’s bedroom window like an airplane stuck in a holding pattern. He hasn’t moved for hours now – all he’s done is float there, trying his darndest to convince Don to let him in. For a while, he tried beg. After that showed no sign of working, he started to whine. Bribery got him nowhere. Finally, he gave up and just started scratching at the glass, as if the sound alone could drive Don to distraction.

The worst thing is, it was almost working.

Now Skip just looks disgruntled, and a little annoyed. “Come on,” he says, for the fifth time tonight. “Please.”

“No. I already told you I have homework.”

“Homework? It’s spring break!”

“True,” Don retorts, turning back to his laptop. He’s not doing homework; he’s watching cat videos on YouTube. Skip can see this very clearly (Don’s made sure the laptop is visible to him, just so he doesn’t get bored hanging out there), but the point still stands. Don has every intention of getting to his essay eventually, and he knows he won’t be able to do that with his very distracting best friend in the house.

Not that Skip isn’t enough of a distraction outside. He’s very good at making himself noticed when he wants to be. (Incidentally, he’s awful at staying under the radar. It’s hard not to notice Skip.)

As if to prove his point, Skip groans – loud and long, to the point where Don wonders how he hasn’t run out of air. When he looks back again, he finds Skip blinking at him expectantly, as if his desperation has improved his case at all.

“You’re not coming in,” Don repeats. Skip deflates.

“Come on.”

“No!”

“I can’t come in unless you invite me, so just… let me in! Open the window! That’s all I need! You don’t even have to spell it out for me, I get the idea! Just let me in, Malark!”

Don rolls his eyes so hard that they ache in his skull. “It’s not happening,” he grinds out, shooting Skip a glower that’s on just the right side of annoyed. Skip finally takes the hint. His shoulders slump, and his face falls, revealing genuine disappointment. It’s only for a second, and Don knows Skip doesn’t mean to show it, but it’s just enough to make him feel bad.

Still, he’s got to stick to his guns. He heaves a sigh and turns back to his work. When he glances over his shoulder a moment later, the window is empty.

Peace should be welcome, but the memory of Skip’s disappointed face won’t leave his head. The more he thinks about it, the guiltier he feels. He should have let Skip in. Where was the harm in it? He’s his best friend, and he left him out in the cold. Skip probably didn’t want to be annoying, he probably wasn’t even hungry – he just wanted to hang out. Still, Don shut him down.

That’s not what Skip deserved.

He bites his lip, frowning down at his bedspread. He could get up and go after him. Skip couldn’t have gotten far. Don could get out of bed, go find his friend, and tell him –

“Guess who’s coming to dinner?” chimes a voice from the doorway.

Don’s head snaps up, and he yelps. _“How?_ How the hell did you get in?”

Skip pushes out of his casual pose, leaning sideways against Don’s doorway with his arm bracing him, and bares his teeth in a wicked grin. It exposes his pointed incisors in a way that makes the hair on Don’s arms stand up. “Your mom let me in,” he says, and sounds thrilled with himself.

Don almost groans. His mother’s love for Skip borders on adoration; she could not be more thrilled that her “troublemaker” son has found such a “wonderful boy” to spend all his time with. (Never mind that Skip is a terribly mischievous influence. Don suspects his mother knows this, but is just weak for Skip’s charm. He can’t really blame her.)

Slowly, he sits up in bed. His laptop shuts. Don squares his shoulders, takes a deep breath, and meets his best friend’s eyes.

Skip pounces.

There’s not much competition when it comes to wrestling with a vampire (unless it’s on a full moon, when Don’s own… canine abilities are at their peak), but Don gives it his best shot. It only takes a few seconds for Skip to get him pinned to the bed, but he can still say he put up a fight.

“Got you,” Skip smirks. Now caught, there’s nothing Don can do but grin defiantly up at his best friend. Mirroring the expression, Skip leans down.

Don’s brain is so shocked by the unexpected move that he doesn’t even realize Skip is kissing him until he feels a sharp nip at his lower lip. He lets out a gasp, opening his mouth unwillingly.

When Skip pulls back, there’s a spot of Don’s blood on his lower lip. He licks it off, almost teasingly, and then smirks.

“Tasty,” he hums. “See, that’s all I wanted.”

Don feels breathless, like all the sense has been knocked out of his head in one fell swoop. He’s never known Skip to be merciless, but, well… “So you got it. Are you gonna let me go now?”

Skip considers this, and huffs a dry chuckle before shaking his head. “Maybe in a little while,” he replies, and leans back down again.

Don may not have given Skip permission to enter his house, but when he leans up to meet his best friend’s mouth, Skip takes the invitation for what it is.


End file.
